


Consequences of Drunk Owl Post

by Kiertorata



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, HP: EWE, Humor, Professor Hermione Granger, Romance, Severus Snape Lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-12 19:24:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9086662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiertorata/pseuds/Kiertorata
Summary: Severus receives the wizarding equivalent of a drunk text.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas to my dear friend Lena! <3 This was supposed to be ready for Christmas, but it kind of grew into something a lot bigger than I planned. I'll finish it sometime during the spring.

Prologue

_Dear Professor Snape,_

_I regret that we have gotten off to a bad start. I would like to remedy this by inviting you to Hogsmeade with me next weekend so that we can get to know each other better._

For the hundredth time that day, Severus wondered about the letter he had received in the morning’s owl post. He placed it down in front of him on his desk and tried to distract himself with a glass of wine.

He wondered if it was a practical joke from a student. I wouldn’t have been the only such letter he had received during the years he had taught at Hogwarts (along with a few more serious ones), but something about the letter made him want to take it seriously.

Upon receiving it, he had immediately scanned the Great Hall for suspicious laughter or blushing faces, but hadn’t spotted anything out of the ordinary. Professor Granger had been absent, but that was probably due to late night library raids or saving house elves or whatever else it was that Granger got around to during her nights. Even Professor Trelawney, who was fond of giving him creepy, wistful glances, restrained herself that morning.

And if someone wanted to prank him, they would have gone for a more exaggerated attempt. The letter was simply too proper and curt to be a joke.

The length baffled Severus. It seemed like the note was unfinished. No signature, no place where they were supposed to hold this potential meeting.

Determined to stop wasting any more time thinking about what was probably a badly crafted attempt to humiliate him, he _Incendioed_ the letter and gulped down the rest of his wine. There was grading to do that wasn’t going to take care of itself.


	2. Chapter 2

\---Three months earlier---

 

“Good evening, Severus,” McGonagall said. “How are you?”

Severus slipped inside the office. He was greeted by the familiar sight of excessive tartan. Despite his many faults, Dumbledore really had had a better sense of style.

“Fantastic,” Severus said. “In less than two weeks I have to deal with another year of intolerable dunderheads. I’m thrilled, as always.”

“You’ll manage,” McGonagall said dryly. “Scotch?”

“Please,” Snape said, and slumped down onto the chair across the Headmistress. McGonagall poured them both a finger. Snape gladly downed his and looked at the Headmistress expectantly.

“Well?” he said.

“Well what? Can’t I invite a friend for a chat without an ulterior motive?” McGonagall said. “I’m not Albus.”

Severus snorted and glanced at the portrait. Professor Dumbledore was snoring lightly in his portrait, but Severus didn’t think the man was truly sleeping.

“Of course you’re not. I just expect to be bombarded with gossip or whatever nonsense you like to occupy yourself with when I enter your office.”

“Well as a matter of fact, there is a bit of gossip I thought you’d take interest in,” McGonagall said, eyes shining. “I’ve found someone for the Potions position. You’re not going to like who it is.”

“Let me guess. It’s a Hufflepuff,” Snape said.

“Not quite,” McGonagall smiled. “Our newest staff member and Potions professor is Miss Hermione Granger.”

“Dear Merlin,” Snape groaned. “What have I done to deserve this? I've already had to endure Longbottom and Lovegood.”

“You’ll survive,” McGonagall said. “We’ve certainly had worse. Isn’t that right, Albus?”

She glanced at the portrait. Dumbledore in his portrait cracked his eyes open and yawned loudly. He looked completely unabashed and merely smiled at them, eyes twinkling.

“I wonder if we’ll have any good new students this year,” McGonagall said.

“Forty years in this building should have taught you better than to expect anything from the students,” Snape said. “If possible, they keep getting dumber every year.”

“I suppose you’re right,” McGonagall said. “How fortunate that I no longer have to teach. Being Headmistress suits me very well.”

Snape merely rolled his eyes. 

*

“I’ve been fearing the day when my laboratory is taken over by some blithering fool.”

Hermione turned around abruptly. She hadn’t heard anyone enter, and the voice of Severus Snape had almost made her drop the jar of newt’s eyes she was holding.

“Professor Snape!”

“That is my name,” Snape replied with a sneer.

Hermione placed the jar on a nearby counter and faced the Professor’s stony glance. She didn’t know what she had been expecting from their first meeting, but she had at least hoped they could maintain some kind of professionality. That had been too much to expect, apparently.

“I do believe this hasn’t been your laboratory for quite some years,” she said icily. “You had little right to barge in like that.”

“We are in the school’s facilities, if you aren’t aware. As a member of the faculty, I may spend as much time here as I please,” Snape replied. “Now, if you don’t mind.”

He brushed past Hermione into the ingredients cupboard, and appeared again with an armful of ingredients. He got down to work in one of the workspaces in the corner, all the while following Hermione with his glance.

Hermione stormed into the cupboard, positive that Snape had chosen to use ingredients that she needed for her first classes. To her surprise, all her precious ingredients were intact.

“Thought I was petty enough to use your ingredients?” Snape asked. “Not all of us have your morals.”

Hermione decided not to respond. She returned to her work, all the while conscious of the cool gaze following her. She tried to ignore it, but it felt like her every movement was being evaluated, and after a moment she could no longer stand it.

“Lunch time,” she said, immediately annoyed at herself as the words slipped out. It wasn’t as if she needed to provide Snape with an explanation.

She grabbed her bag and briskly walked out. Had she looked behind her, she would have seen the knowing smirk of Professor Snape.

*

"I can't stand him!" Hermione said.

She swirled her spoon around in the herbal tea Luna had prepared for her. Lavender was supposed to be soothing, but she didn't feel any calmer.

Luna had taken Hagrid’s place as the Care of Magical Creatures professor and gamekeeper after Hagrid had moved to France. The hut was cosy as ever, with a touch of Luna’s colourful madness. Random knick-knacks hung from the roof, along with what looked like Christmas baubles with pictures of Hippogriffs. The walls were painted a bright yellow, and the furniture was a flower-patterned lilac colour. Hermione wondered how Neville liked living there.

“Snape can be a bit difficult,” Luna admitted. “I think he’s nice, deep down, but he doesn’t want to admit it. He was very mean to me when I started teaching.”

“He’s there in the lab all the time, throwing snide remarks at me and judging my work. If he loves Potions so much, why doesn’t he teach it himself?”

Luna shrugged. “Maybe that’s why.”

She got up and to pour them both some more tea. Jinx, one of Luna’s many Kneazles jumped out of her lap and into Hermione’s. Hermione stroked him absentmindedly.

“He’s not bad once you get used to him,” Luna said as she sat back down. “He can be a bit of an arse, but he has a good heart.”

“If he does, he hides it very well.”

“When he was Headmaster during the war, Neville says he made it a lot better for the students. The Carrows tortured students, but Snape often gave them punishments that got them out of the Carrows’s way.”

“I know,” Hermione said. "I just wish he would let me work in peace. It's stressful enough to prepare for lessons without him breathing down my neck."

"Maybe you just need to meet him halfway," Luna said in her mysterious, serene way.

Hermione sighed. She gulped down the rest of her tea, feeling resigned.

"How are you and Neville?" she asked.

“We’re wonderful,” Luna said, beaming. “Neville’s gotten his _Mimbulus Mimbletonia_ to breed and he’s made a rather interesting cross of it with wild Moly. We don’t know the properties yet, but I think the pus smells lovely.”

Hermione tried to look enthusiastic. The door opened and Neville appeared. He wiped his feet noisily at the threshold and stepped inside. He walked over to Luna and leaned in for a kiss.

"Hey darling," he said. "Brought some carrots from the greenhouse."

"Thanks. The unicorns will be pleased."

"Hi Hermione," Neville said. He sat down next to Luna and placed a hand on her knee.

Watching Luna and Neville's relationship bliss always brought out a small ache inside Hermione. Sometimes she wondered what it would be to find a similar kind of love. Her relationship with Ron had been short and disastrous; they were still mending their friendship. Hermione had only been on a handful of dates since then, none of them particularly successful.

“We’re thinking of doing a module together for the seventh year students,” Luna said. “Would you like to help out? We could use a Potions perspective.”

“Er, I’ll think about it,” Hermione said. She loved her friends, but she was not sure she loved them enough to work together with them.

"Please help us out. You know Potions isn't really my forte,” Neville said.

"Well alright," Hermione said, relenting when she saw Neville's pathetic expression. Neville grinned.

"By the way, I’ve got some Dittany for Snape. He was asking for it earlier. Would you mind taking it to him when you return to the castle? I like to avoid him as much as I can."

"Sure," Hermione said. "It's not like I don’t already have to see him all the time."

Neville gave her a sympathetic look. “I don’t know how you can stand it. Even though I know he’s a good guy now, he still creeps me out.”

*

Hermione entered the lab to find Snape in pitch darkness but for a single light. The pale yellow light came from the cauldron Snape stood over and reflected ominously from his face.

“Don’t turn on the light,” Snape said roughly. He didn't turn around.

“Fairy wings?” Hermione said despite herself.

“Yes,” Snape said. “The sensitive phase will be over in five minutes.”

Hermione was surprised by how neutrally he addressed her. Perhaps it was because he was so focused on the potion. Just as she had thought this, Snape turned to talk to her.

“I suppose you need the lab for your pitiful attempts at making reasonable lessons for unworthy students.”

“Actually, I just came here to give you these. Professor Longbottom sent them," Hermione said coolly. She dug the package from her cloak pocket and handed it to Snape.

Their hands brushed as Snape took the package, and Hermione was surprised at how warm his touch felt. She pulled her hand away quickly. Snape’s eyes bored into her in the darkness. Their expression was impossible to interpret.

“Tell _Professor_ Longbottom my thanks,” Snape said. Hermione could hear the sneer in his voice.

“I will. Now if you don’t mind, I have grading to return to,” Hermione said. She spun around and walked out of the laboratory.

_Meet him halfway_ , Luna’s words rung in her head.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione was becoming aware of a number of reasons why teaching was not her profession.

Number one: the children. All of her illusions of being someone who got along with children well had shattered during the first few weeks of classes. The children did not like her, and she did not like them. Teaching a subject that was so universally disliked didn't make things any easier. That, and how careless and generally _stupid_ most of the children seemed to be frustrated Hermione beyond measure.

Number two: the boredom. Hermione hadn’t expected teaching to be a particularly thrilling pastime, but it was turning out to be the dullest experience of her life. With her signature efficiency, Hermione had finished all her lesson plans for the year during the first month. Teaching classes had been exciting the first few days, but very soon it had become repetitive. She wondered how anyone managed to stay motivated when they had to teach the same content year after year.

The worst part was the loneliness. Although Luna and Neville were wonderful company and she was often invited to have tea with the Headmistress, she was severely starting to feel the lack of likeminded company. She felt a desperate need to connect with someone who really understood her. Someone she could discuss her research with, and complain about how dense students where. Someone she could fall asleep next to (Crookshanks was lovely, but she could do without waking up with fur in her mouth), have intelligent conversations with over morning coffee, and someone – she would definitely not oppose the idea – she could have amazing sex with.

The problem was, it wasn’t exactly a piece of cauldron cake to find a kindred soul when one spent most of one’s time at a boarding school amongst teenagers.

Hermione was a practical witch, and it was not like her to wallow in self-pity. If there was a solution to her problem, she would find it with her vigorous research skills. It was a good thing she was the cleverest witch of her age. She didn’t have to bother with OwlCupid or any other humiliating ways wizards had for connecting with people. With the aid of statistics and magic, Hermione would find herself the optimal partner.

So, she set to research. She encamped in the familiar setting of the library and surrounded herself with books on psychology and love.

 _Oh, if Professor Snape was to see what I’m currently reading, he would never stop teasing me_ , Hermione thought.

*

“I worry about you sometimes, Severus,” McGonagall said and took a sip of her scotch. “You spend most of your time locked away in your dungeon like a vampire, and your social life consists mostly of drinking with your boss who is twenty years your senior. I always hoped that after the war you would find someone to be with.”

“Your concern touches me,” Severus said, voice dripping sarcasm. “But if you don’t mind, I would prefer to talk about anything but my love life.”

“Or lack of one,” McGonagall said wryly.

“As if you have it any better. Living in a castle occupied mostly by minors doesn’t make for a particularly satisfying night life.”

“Just so you know, I enjoy a very satisfying sexual relationship with Irma,” McGonagall said with a hint of smugness.

“Which is something I’d rather never hear about,” Snape said, rolling his eyes. “Thank you for rubbing my lack of sex life in my face.”

He grabbed the bottle of scotch and poured himself another generous two fingers.

McGonagall grinned.

“If you’re desperate, there’s always Sibyll. You know she likes you.”

Snape glared at her.

“I manage just fine with my Potions research as my nightly companion,” he said curtly.

“Severus, research is no substitute for sex,” McGonagall said.

“I’ve managed just fine, and will do so until the day I retire,” Snape snapped. He promptly swigged down the rest of his scotch and got up. “Good evening, Headmistress. I must get back to my research.”

“Did I upset you?” McGonagall said, grinning. “Ah, I suppose I did. The truth can be unpleasant sometimes. Good night, Severus.”

Severus didn’t reply.

He contemplated their discussion on his way to the dungeons.

 _It was much easier getting laid as a spy_ , he thought wistfully.

*

Severus stepped into the laboratory, sniffing at the threshold. One of Britain’s only Potions Masters, he was able to recognize most potions based on just their smells. The scent that wafted into his nose was unfamiliar, and he walked into the lab frowning.

He found the culprit in the far end of the lab where Professor Granger was bent over a cauldron. Her bushy hair covered her face and she didn’t seem to notice Severus. Only when Severus stepped right behind her did she turn around looking flushed.

“Professor Snape!”

“Professor Granger,” Severus said, putting on his signature sneer. “What’s that? Do you plan to teach the brats something that's not in their syllabus? How very ambitious." 

“Oh, this. It’s just an experiment,” Granger said with feigned nonchalance. “I didn’t think anyone would be around this time of night.”

“Oh?” Severus said, lifting an eyebrow. “And is there a particular reason you are working in the middle of the night?”

Professor Granger seemed more flustered than she typically did. There was something suspicious about her manner, but Severus was not sure what it was. He looked at the display of ingredients and tried to guess at what she was making. He was damned before he would ask her.

“You’re free to work here. I don’t mind,” Granger said curtly.

She dropped some sliced lacewings into the potion and stirred clockwise. Lacewing could just be a neutralizer, but combined with Bubotuber pus, it was also a key ingredient in many memory potions. The rest of the ingredients Severus spotted didn’t agree with that theory, however.

“So, do you often make use of the lab at this time of the night?” Granger said.

Granger was known to be an insufferable chatterbox around other people, but she was usually chilly towards Severus. Hearing her make conversation was strange.

“Yes, I find that I work best during night time.” Severus said. “Bat of the dungeons, I believe is what they call me.”

Professor Granger seemed to only partially listen to him. She was focused on calculating the number of stirs. Severus could hear her mutter as she stirred, brows furrowed in concentration.

Twelve stirs, Severus counted. Twelve wasn’t a particularly magically charged number, but it was a common number in various…

“Professor Granger, are you making a love potion?” Severus said, lips twisting into a tantalizing smirk.

“What—”

“I would have thought that as saviour of the wizarding world and right hand of Boy-Who-Avoided-Death-Twice you would be swarmed by suitors,” Severus said. “But it appears to be that even obnoxious Gryffindors don’t get everything they want.”

“I am not making a love potion!” Granger said. Her cheeks were flushed and she wore an angry expression. Granger looked rather pretty when she was angry.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” she added.

"I think I struck a chords," Severus said. "Nasty break-up with Weasley? Not enough Bulgarian Quidditch hunks around to please you?"

"My personal life is none of your concern,” Granger said, voice as cold as ice. “Now if you aren’t going to work, then at least be quiet.”

Severus sent one more amused smirk at Granger and disappeared into the supply cupboard to get ingredients. He then set his cauldron onto the table next to Grangers and got to work. Granger watched him, clearly annoyed. He had broken their unspoken rule about occupying different sides of the laboratory when working.


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione had finished all her preparations for Monday's lessons and a glorious Saturday evening void of duty spread ahead of her. She was curled up on her favourite sofa with Luna, discussing the past week. Both had agreed it best to steer clear of the miserable November weather by staying in the comfort of Hermione's quarters. They were expecting Ginny to arrive any moment and were munching on sandwiches and chatting while waiting for her.

"Hello, lovely people!" Ginny said as she crossed the threshold. She was dressed in rumpled, dark green Holyhead Harpies robes. Sweat glistened on her forehead and her hair looked dishevelled.

"Ugh, you reek," Hermione said, laughing.

"This," Ginny said, pointing at herself, "is the smell of victory. We just won against the Cannons."

"Congratulations!" Luna said.

"Ron must be pissed," Hermione said.

"Annoying my brother is one of the perks of my job," Ginny grinned. "So, what are you up to? I hope I didn't just pass up on a good after-match party for nothing."

"Hermione's been moaning about how little meaning her life has," Luna said. "Also, she really needs to get laid."

"Sounds like a thrill,” Ginny said. “Good thing I came to save your night. Here."

She put down the bag she had been carrying and it clunked as it touched the floor.

"We are going to get absolutely wrecked tonight," she informed. “That should cure Hermione’s angst and whatever problems everyone else has.”

"Oh Ginny, did you steal some booze from the after-match party again?” Hermione said. “I swear you should have been in Slytherin.”

“Hey! I have just as much right to them even if I choose to spend the night in better company,” Ginny said and winked. “I’m going to go take a shower now. Don’t drink all the wine.”

*

Ginny was greeted by a cosy sight when she reappeared. Hermione had lit the fire in her fireplace. She and Luna sat in front of the fire sipping glasses of wine. Crookshanks had jumped into Luna's lap like he often did when the girl was around. Luna had a magical way about animals.

“So, Hermione doesn’t like teaching and needs to get laid.” Ginny said. “How are you, Luna?”

“I woke up to sex tonight,” Luna said. “It was very nice.”

“You’re disgusting,” Ginny said. “I wish I was getting some.”

“I’m sure you could, um, use your Quidditch fame or something,” Hermione said. “You know, instead of coming here to drink with two of your best friends like a good old spinster. You could have made use of all the fame and glory you gained from your win and picked someone up.”

“Picked someone up?” Ginny said, laughing. “You make it sound so dirty.”

“That’s what happens to you when you spend all your evenings grading Potions exams instead of having a steamy affair with someone,” Hermione said, giggling.

“Hermione!” Ginny said, pretending to be shocked. “It’s not like I’m in dire need of a man, I just…”

“I know what you mean,” Hermione said. “I am an independent woman whose happiness doesn’t depend on a man. But at the same time I have needs. Human needs.”

“Wow, that is profound,” Ginny said. She raised her glass. “Cheers to that.”

“There’s a potion I know that could help you,” Luna offered. “It makes you find people sexually repulsive. An unfortunate side-effect is that it also makes you sweat a lot. And constantly crave cheese.”

“Cheese doesn’t sound so bad. I could really explore my relationship with cheese,” Ginny said. She looked like she was truly considering this option.

“It doesn’t actually provide you with any,” Luna said. “And you’ll never feel satisfied, even if you down a whole wheel of cheese.”

Ginny looked disappointed. She gulped the rest of her wine and refilled her glass.

“I suppose I’ll stick to my on-off relationship with wine then.”

During this exchange of words, an idea had been forming in Hermione’s head. Had she not been drunk, she would have thought twice about it, but now she had no such inhibitions.

“I suppose now’s as good a time as any,” she muttered.

“What?” Ginny said.

Luna looked mildly interested.

“I have a better potion,” Hermione declared. “I have a potion that will tell you who your best match is.”

“What?” Ginny said again. “Do tell.”

“I’ve developed a potion that scans your subconscious and picks out the best partner for you out of all the people you’ve met.”

“Interesting,” Luna said.

Ginny didn’t look convinced.

“Each one of us has met around two thousand people face-to-face,” Hermione said, going into lecture mode. “Probably double the amount if you count people you’ve had only passing encounters with. In all likelihood, there is at least one good love candidate amongst those people. The potion I’ve made picks him out.”

“Sounds fishy,” Ginny said.

“It’s just science,” Hermione said, looking a little hurt. “I put a lot of research into this. But if you’re not interested…”

“I am!” Ginny said. “It just sounds so much like a love potion.”

“My potion is the opposite of a love potion! You can’t decide who you get as your best match. And you still need to do the work yourself if you want anything to happen.”

“What if whomever we get is already taken?” Ginny asked.

“The potion doesn’t rule that out, I’m afraid,” Hermione said, looking apologetic. “But it does rule out people who have passed away.”

“Lovely,” Ginny said. “Well, I’m open to a bit of fun. It’s not like there’s anything to lose.”

Hermione went to fetch the potion. She could hardly contain herself. The potion had been sitting in her closet under a cooling spell for two weeks. She had thought about taking it several times, but had always chickened out.

She returned with two more wine glasses, filled to the brim with a translucent, faintly red liquid. She passed one to Ginny, who took it and sniffed it.

"Here goes nothing," Ginny said. "Luna, are you sure you don't want to check if Neville's the right bloke for you?"

"I'm good," Luna said, smiling. She took a sip of her wine. “I’ve got a rather enjoyable potion right here.”

Hermione and Ginny raised their glasses and looked at each other, flushed from excitement. Although Ginny did a good job of hiding it, Hermione could see that she was nervous.

“Cheers,” Ginny said.

They gulped down their potions simultaneously, wincing at the taste. Hermione had added some aniseed to the potion to make the taste more tolerable, but she hadn’t quite succeeded. The potion tasted very sweet and slightly mouldy.

Dark swirls flashed before Hermione's eyes and started to take form in the shape of a dark-haired man. For a shocked second she thought her best match would turn out to be Harry, but as the shape became more distinct she knew her fear was misplaced.

The truth was much worse.


	5. Chapter 5

“Fuck!” Hermione said.

“That bad?” Ginny said.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Hermione repeated. “I can’t believe it. My best match is Professor Snape.”

Luna and Ginny stared at her for a perfect, astonished second until Ginny fell to the floor in a fit of hysterical laughter.

“Are you quite done?” Hermione said after a minute had passed and Ginny seemed no less entertained. Ginny attempted to get up, but failed miserably, falling back the floor in another fit of laughter.

“Snape! I’ve never hear anything so funny in my life!” Ginny howled, gasping for breath.

“There’s nothing funny about it!” Hermione snapped.

“But it’s Snape!”

Hermione's heart thumped wilder than she would care to admit from the shock of what she had just learned. She couldn't believe her highest match was Snape! He had acted so unpleasantly towards her the entire semester. He was handsome in his dark, intense way, and he was certainly intelligent, but that didn't make up for the fact that he was a spiteful, odious man, who was twice her age. Hermione was almost ready to cry.

“I think it kind of makes sense,” Luna said in her quiet, contemplative way.

“What?” Ginny said. The grin was gone from her face. “We all know you have a peculiar way of looking at things, but Hermione and Snape!?”

Hermione wrinkled her nose in displeasure, no longer sure if she was more annoyed at Ginny or shocked at the result of the potion.

“Well, you have to admit he’s intelligent,” Luna said, as if that explained everything.

Ginny snorted.

“Oh sure. Did you forget that he’s also a huge git?” she said.

“That too,” Luna admitted. “But I don’t see Hermione dating someone our age. Snape at least is mature.”

“The kind of mature who thinks it’s okay to terrorize school children,” Ginny said. “I’m sure that goes a long way in a relationship.”

“Well, children can be rather obnoxious,” Luna said pensively. Hermione nodded in unison. She was contemplating what Luna had said. 

“He’s devoted to research,” Luna continued.

“He’s hawk-nosed,” Ginny said.

“It’s not like he can help that,” Hermione put in. “And he does live close by,” she said wryly.

“He’s good looking too, in a way,” Luna said.

“Luna!” Ginny said. She beckoned towards a new bottle. “Hand that over. I’m going to need more alcohol in my system before I hear any more positive comments about Snape’s appearance¬.”

She filled her glass and passed the bottle to Hermione. Hermione gulped down the remains of her wine and refilled the glass. This was too much to take in, she thought.

“He’s probably the only person who could handle how bossy Hermione is,” Luna continued.

“You actually have a point there,” Ginny said. “Not just anyone could manage Hermione.”

“I’m still here,” Hermione reminded. “Why are we still talking about me anyway? Ginny, you still haven’t told us who you got!”

Ginny went a little green in the face.

“Um, I’d rather not tell you guys,” she said, avoiding their gazes.

“Come on, it can’t be worse than Snape,” Hermione insisted.

“It is, believe me,” she said. She looked visibly queasy.

“Ginny.”

“Let us help you write to Snape,” Ginny said, conveniently changing the topic. She looked so uncomfortable, that Hermione decided to let the topic pass for now. She wrote a mental note to remember to pester Ginny about it later.

“Tell me why on earth I need to write Snape when I can just walk up to his office any time I want,” she said, exasperated.

“Because you want to do this _now_ ,” Ginny said.

“You mean _you_ want to do this now,” Hermione said, and stared at Ginny accusingly.

Ginny flashed her a smile that said “whatever”.

“Dear Snape,” Luna started. During their bickering, she had somehow conjured up a piece of parchment and a quill.

“It’s Professor Snape,” Hermione said out of habit.

“Dear _Professor_ Snape,” Luna said, quill scratching.

“Oh, professor!” Ginny screeched in a high-pitched voice. “My heart beats at the thought of your dark, black eyes boring into mine.”

Luna started writing, and Hermione yelled: “Hey! Don’t write that! Besides, saying dark and black is redundant.”

“Scratch black then,” Ginny said, and continued in the same exaggerated voice. “I must confess that I would like nothing more than to run my hands through your oily hair while listening to your sour voice insult me.”

“Ginny, stop!” Hermione said. “Besides, his hair hasn’t been that oily after he stopped being Potions Professor.”

“See, you’re defending him already. Match made in heaven,” Ginny said. She was clearly enjoying Hermione’s torment.

“If you are free, I would love to spend next weekend frolicking in the meadows, collecting Potions ingredients,” Luna said, still writing.

“That sounds nothing like me! If you’re so insistent on writing Snape, at least let me write it myself.”

Hermione snatched the parchment out of Luna’s hand and performed an erasing spell on it. She scribbled some lines onto it, trying not to put too much thought into it under the nosy gaze of her friends.

“There,” she said.

Ginny grabbed the parchment and scanned it quickly.

“I thought my version was better,” she said, “but if you insist on being boring…”

“I don’t insist on anything! It’s you who wanted to write him in the first place.”

“I always have the best ideas, don’t I?” Ginny said, grinning winningly. “Let’s send it to him now.”

She got up and ran to the owl cage. Hermione’s owl Crookbeak, a spectacled owl she had gotten herself after she had graduated from Hogwarts, snoozed in his cage. Hermione leapt up from the floor the moment she realized what was about to happen.

“Ginny, no!”

Ginny, however, had her athleticism to her advantage. When Hermione tried to grab the letter from her, Ginny kept her off by elbowing her. She calmly proceeded to tie the letter to Crookbeak’s leg.

“Ta ta,” she said with manic cheerfulness as she sent the owl off.

Hermione hurried to the window and tried to grab Crookbeak, but it was too late. She watched in despair as the owl flew into the beating rain and disappeared behind the nearest tower.

Hermione crumpled to the floor.

“Oh dear god,” she said. “What if Snape finds out it was me?”

“He’ll fall madly in love with you and you’ll live happily ever after,” Ginny said. “Don’t worry.”

“Ginny…” Hermione groaned. "You’re a horrible friend, you know."

“What?” Ginny said and shrugged. “I have a romantic soul.”

Hermione grabbed the bottle closest to her, only to put it back right away. The empty bottle clinked sadly as it touched the floor.

“Sorry,” Luna said, not looking particularly apologetic. “I just finished the last bottle.”

Hermione grabbed a cracker instead and gnawed at it glumly. Her stomach twisted uncomfortably at the thought of Snape receiving her letter. Yet, the knot in her stomach was accompanied by another feeling: an odd thrill, a fluttering of… hope?

Hermione suddenly realized she was rather woozy and lay down upon the floor. The stone floor felt surprisingly comfortable under her, warmed by the fire and softened by her thick jumper.

 _Much better_ , she thought sleepily.

She stared into the warm glow of the fire and the image of Professor Snape, dark and striking, came to her again.

 _If only he wasn't so unpleasant…_ Hermione thought, eyelids drooping shut. _I think I could come to like him quite a bit._


End file.
